


Not As It Seems Part V

by eliniel



Series: Emet-Selch/WoL [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 22:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19859128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: After falling asleep in a meeting with the Scions, the Warrior of Light is woken by Emet-Selch, who carries her back to her room as she bears her entire soul to him.





	Not As It Seems Part V

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I have some actual happy, fluffy things in the works. This one has been on my mind for a while. It was half written last night and I wanted to finish it, in light of the fact that today is a rough day for me. More at the bottom.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Please read my previous installments (as there are things referenced in each that happened in the previous). There will be more. :)
> 
> And as always, feel free to leave me comments if you have a request you'd like to see me put to paper, whether its to be part of this series or something random!

I was at a meeting with the Scions and the Exarch until late in the night. I’m unsure when I let the darkness cradle me into sleep, but it must have been quite a long time. A familiar voice filtered into my mind, bringing me back to consciousness. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

I picked my head up from my folded arms, mind still in a sleepy haze. 

Where was I? I couldn’t remember, but I could see Emet-Selch standing in the doorway, arms loosely crossed in front of him, watching me with that ever-inscrutable amber gaze that he reserved for the daytime, in front of people, especially my constant companions. 

Speaking of-

Right, we were having a meeting. Why hadn’t they woken me up once they were finished?

“Aren’t you going to answer me?”

I stretched my arms out and dropped my forehead back on to the surface of the table. The edge of the wood dug into my skin. 

“I suppose I fell asleep during the meeting.”

I heard his footsteps approach me. I felt the soft material of his gloves touch the back of my neck as he pulled the majority of my hair to one shoulder. He leaned over me.

“That exhausted, hm?” I raised my shoulders in a shrug. I could feel a yawn coming on. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to carry you back to the room myself, then.” I tilted my head, just enough so I could see him out of the corner of my eyes. 

“What? But-”

He was already, moving, however, sliding his hands under my knees, across my back, and easily lifted me from the chair I was sitting in. 

I didn’t bother arguing- I knew he wouldn’t listen, anyway. Some days I felt he’d do anything just to have me in his arms- to touch me, connect with me, especially after his recent spat with jealousy. 

I enjoyed it too, of course. The feel of his hands and his body against me, my skin, was unlike anything I’d ever had to myself before. I would continue letting myself revel in it until the inevitable happens and I would have to face him in combat. 

My stomach clenched, thinking about what the future held. I didn’t like to think about it. I wanted to deny it with my entire being. Being in his arms lessened the pain- if only until he pulled away each morning. 

He claimed he wanted to find another way and I believed him- but I could feel the end looming in front of us, the outcome almost depressingly obvious. We were not going to find another way. He said I would be strong enough to hold the light- promised me, even. We’re...still far away from our objective but I can already tell. I hope I am...but I very much doubt I will be. 

I think he realizes it too. We’re a lot alike, in the grand scheme of things. We turn to each other for that much sought-after comfort. Sometimes I catch the sadness in his eyes when he looks at me, the catch in his breath when he kisses me. 

Is he also wondering when the last of these glorious nights will be?

If it came to it- I don’t know what I’d do. Of course, I would have to fight him. The light inside of me was too strong and he was tempered to the god that was opposite mine. 

I promised I was his- and I would always remain so, whether I was forced to send him to oblivion or if he sent me.

Hells, maybe we could go together.

It was all terribly exhausting- most days I felt as if I had no energy left for anything, as if I didn’t want to do anything except let him gather me in his arms and hold me for eternity. He was the only happiness left in my life. Maybe he was the only happiness I’d ever truly had. 

I could _never_ be honest like this with my companions. I could _never_ tell them about this time I shared with an Ascian. I could _never_ tell them how I wished I was no longer a hero- _the hero_ \- and could spend the rest of my existence in the arms of the man who seemed to know my soul better than I knew myself. 

They just wouldn’t understand. 

My head lolled against him as he carried me towards the Pendants, the Crystarium all but deserted at this time of night. I sighed, the weight of everything overwhelming me- crushing me- in my near twilight-state, when I couldn’t force the thoughts away even if I wanted to.

I tilted my neck up to look at him with half-open eyes, refusing to lift my head entirely, to find him watching me again. His brows were knitted together and I thought, maybe, I caught concern in that amber gaze that I’d grown so fond of. He clenched his jaw when our eyes met and looked away. 

“Your thoughts are heavy tonight.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. It wasn’t a question.

“They’ve worked you too hard.”

“I’m the Warrior of Light, aren’t I?” I asked with a huff. “It’s what I’m supposed to do.”

He didn’t respond. I could feel him press me up against the door as he felt for the door handle to my room- our room. Once he had it turned, he pushed it open with his foot. 

“I thought maybe I’d earned my rest this time,” I continued. “At least for a small while.”

He had been painfully honest with me those few nights ago when he all but spilled his heart to me. I owed him that same honesty, didn’t I?

Once the door was closed behind us and we were finally alone, he set me upright in one of the chairs at my dining table. I let myself fall against the hardwood at my back, my arms lying limply in my lap. He bent down for a moment to remove my shoes, but when I started speaking again, he stood straight, arms crossed over his chest once again, listening. 

“I’m so tired,” I confessed. “Of the fighting, the traveling. I’m tired of being put up on a pedestal and worshipped as if I were a God.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes, a strangling in my throat. “I’m sick of people revering me as the Warrior of Light, the savior of the realm. I want to be loved for who I am, not for the deeds I’ve done. Aside from this small slice of time I’ve spent with you, I am very much alone in this world, as is the life of a savior.”

Emet-Selch loomed over me, but I had not the energy to even tilt my head up and look at him. My body started trembling and I tried to hold the sob back as hard as I could. 

“You don’t enjoy being the hero at the end of the day?”

I looked down at my hands, examining them. Calluses built over years of training, of fighting the _good_ fight. 

“Playing the hero is tiresome.” I closed my eyes. “Before it-it wasn’t so hard. Risking my life to save the people didn’t seem such an awful thing, and really, compared to now, can I really call it as such?” I opened my eyes again, letting my head dip. “At first I did it because it was right.”

“And now?”

“I feel only a tool that can be called upon when danger is afoot.”

“Do you not think it right anymore?”

I bit my lip as his question. I could feel myself starting to crumble in front of him. All of my doings- right and wrong- bearing down on me, suffocating me. 

“I’ve-” But, I couldn’t finish. I wanted to tell him- to confess to him- that I’ve done horrible things too, in the name of Hydaelyn, in the name of _good_. To declare that I wasn’t anymore a hero than he. To admit that I _knew_ this god I was tempered to wasn’t any better than his. That I wished we could go against them, hand in hand, and no matter what the outcome, we would be together.

But in the end, the battle of light and dark would be waged and only one of us would be victorious. 

The feeling of knowing this was excruciating. The feeling of knowing that the one person your soul is tethered to unto the end of time would turn out to be your enemy, even if it was unwanted on both sides. 

The guilt was eating at me- gnawing me, chewing me up and spitting me out, leaving whatever husk was left to pick up the pieces of myself- by myself- and return to my companions as if nothing had changed. 

I think he knew, even though I hadn’t told him. He knew, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Damn the gods. Damn them and their idiotic brawls, forcing the innocents to take part in their wars. To fight and kill and die for them.

A fury rose up in me. A madness I could not keep away, but in a body that could no longer handle the pain.

The tears that had been building up the entire time started falling, freely. I let out a shaky breath as they did. Emet-Selch knelt down in front of me. I watched him through blurry vision, his soft expression of sadness pulling a shuddering sob out of me. 

He looked desperate to find a way to help me.

“I know,” he said, looking me in the eyes. He reached out and brushed my hair out of my eyes, wiped the water from my face. “I know all too well how you feel, my warrior.”

“I just want this to be over. I don’t want to fight anymore.” He nodded his understanding, a sorrowful smile on his lips.

“I know you do.”

He took my hands and pulled me onto the cold tile floor with him, winding his arms around me, flooding me with the warmth of his embrace. I wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. To drift away in the darkness and comfort of his magic. To go away with him and live out of lives in peace.

But knowing who we both were- it would never happen until we were given true freedom, something our masters would never deign to give us.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and he let me get it out- everything I had been holding back these long months- years, even. My muffled cries against his chest made him hold me all the tighter, clutching me as if I was the only thing in universe world worth saving.

I know not how long we sat like that, but when my tears had dried, leaving me empty, and my shaking had stopped, he lifted me once again and carried me to bed. 

I felt utterly raw- open to him in a way I’d never opened to anyone, even myself. 

The tenderness in the way he looked at me, in the way he handled me...he knew it, too. 

Quietly, _my_ Ascian slipped out of his coat and his shirt, uncaring enough to hang them up, as he usually did, and laid down next to me. 

He gathered me up again, and I could not hold back my sigh of relief at the feeling. He caught my lips in an incredibly gentle kiss. I closed my eyes, savoring his taste, his smell...his everything. 

_Please, let this last forever._

He pressed his forehead against mine. 

We both knew, I think, in this moment, though. 

“Let us enjoy this while it lasts,” he whispered to me, eyes closed. “ _My Persephone_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago, I was diagnosed with separation anxiety. It causes me to obsess over things I enjoy because I don't want to give them up- and when they end, especially in such tragic ways, it's very hard for me to process. That is where writing comes in. It makes it so I don't have to leave it behind, and it makes it much easier. Unfortunately, I still have days where I'm a big ball of depression and today is one of those days. Sure, I could just go back and watch the cutscenes again, but it just isn't the same. Today, my Emet Withdrawal scale is at a ten.


End file.
